


Not Gonna Write You A Love Song

by NinjaSpaz



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Atsumu is bad at feelings, Confessions, M/M, MSBY as a band, Sakusa is smitten, band au, no beta what do i look like, sakuatsu fluff week, sakusa is probably ooc but honestly who even is this man, this is just pure tooth rotting fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:07:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29542821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NinjaSpaz/pseuds/NinjaSpaz
Summary: So maybe it had been Sakusa who said it, in response to Atsumu’s preening and teasing-“Better not fall in love with me Kiyoomi-kun.”-but the implication was that the distaste was mutual. How ridiculous it all seemed in hindsight. In the low light of the room, Atsumu’s eyes were wide as he watched Sakusa, enraptured by the gentle rasp in his voice as he continued to sing his impromptu confession.-Atsumu asks Sakusa to sing to him. He gets more than he bargained for.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 35
Collections: Sakuatsu Fluff Week 2021 <3





	Not Gonna Write You A Love Song

**Author's Note:**

> SakuAtsu Fluff Week Day 5: Confessions | Band AU | "Can you sing for me?"
> 
> Hi SakuAtsu nation! I saw this prompt back in November and said "yeah I can probably do something with that" and then promptly did not think about it again until like 3 days ago when I was procrastinating another big project. Please accept this humble offering and excuse the ridiculousness of Sakusa serenading Atsumu with [Demi Lovato](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HN1EnKiTeZY&ab_channel=JakeCoco). (For optimal vibes, set the playback speed to .75)

“Ahh that was such a great show!” Hinata cried as they all shuffled, sweaty and exhausted, into the dressing rooms in the hall behind the stage.

Bokuto followed him in, practically vibrating as if he could still feel the kick of his drum in his whole body. “Dude! You killed that solo tonight” He spun around to shoot finger guns at Atsumu. “And Tsum-Tsum, you had them eating out of the palm of your hand!” Sakusa didn’t understand where their boundless energy came from. 

“Don’t I always?” Atsumu’s shit-eating grin took over his face, a smile both irritating for its arrogance and endearing for its earnestness. It was honest and true, nothing like the fake smiles he put on for the cameras or the fans. Sakusa would never admit it aloud, but it was one of his favorites. “Bokkun’s right though, yer solo was on fire tonight Shouyou!”

The fire-haired guitarist leapt into the air, arms and legs akimbo as he shouted his thanks with glee. “It felt so good! Your rhythm just went straight through me, like  _ GWAH _ , and I just went with it, ya’ know?”

Atsumu chuckled, ruffling the shorter man’s hair in his hands. “Told ya you could do it!” The smile softened and this one was definitely Sakusa’s favorite.

The thing about working with Atsumu was, he’s demanding and hard-headed, but beneath all that was a man who genuinely loved creating music and collaborating with the best of the best to make the most beautiful songs. There’s a reason VLeague Records wanted him and why they balanced his abrasive personality with members like Hinata and Bokuto. Even Sakusa had his role, a dry wit and cutting tongue to rein in Atsumu’s massive ego. The tabloids loved to cast them as antagonists because of his acidic jibes, often claiming friction among the bandmates where there wasn’t.

Maybe they hadn’t gotten along at first. Sakusa had a particular way of playing and singing that meant he wasn’t keen on bending to another. But the label knew what it was doing when it had put them all together and after a rocky few months, they found their sound. Hinata’s energetic riffs combined with Atsumu’s steadying rhythm and husky crooning gave them a playful dynamic where sometimes they would trade off the lead melody, passing it back and forth like a ball. Bokuto’s drums filled the hollow spaces, and punctuated others, providing the occasional spike of adrenaline to get the crowd jumping. Sakusa’s bass was a constant, grounding force throughout, tying them together and picking up the slack where the songs demanded it. His voice, when he sang, blended with Atsumu’s, strengthening it and lifting it up in a harmony they had increasingly found off the stage as often as on it.

No, maybe they hadn’t been instant friends, and the magazines still played them as rivals at odds for the starring role on occasion, but it had been three years now, and he couldn’t deny he was fond of the singer. Despite his initial impression that Atsumu was every bit the diva most lead singers tended to be, over time he saw all the ways Atsumu cared. For his family. For his band. For his fans. He saw the ways Atsumu hid behind his asshole veneer, pretending not to care while simultaneously taking everything to heart. Atsumu thought no one noticed, but how could Sakusa not?

Sakusa loved the way Atsumu loved deeply.

He would never admit that to his face, though.

“He always does well,” he added to the commentary, the post-show energy filling him and loosening his tongue. “You could stand to learn a thing or two about consistency from him.” The jibe wasn’t true in the slightest; Atsumu was far from the wildcard performer he had been in the early days, trying new riffs on a whim just to match Shouyou’s intensity, but it was an old joke amongst them that always riled him up while the others guffawed.

“You are never gonna let me live that down are ya,” Atsumu groaned, dropping heavily onto the leather couch in their shared dressing room. “We’ve had at least two tours since then!”

Sakusa shrugged, letting the familiarity of their banter fill the space with warmth. He watched Atsumu tussle with Shouyou and prod at Bokuto, looking for the signs of fatigue he’d seen in the stadium lights that led him to make his comment in the first place. He had made some small slip ups in his fingering that he didn’t usually make, but it hardly warranted a callout. They couldn’t always be perfect, and the errors were so minor the crowd couldn’t pick it up anyway. They were too enraptured by his voice, which had somehow been even huskier than usual. He listened to Atsumu joke about how many drumsticks Bokuto broke during the two hour set, wondering how much of the strain was typical post-show exhaustion or if there was something else.

As they loaded up the tour bus, he saw Atsumu wobble climbing up the steps. “Miya, you alright?”

Atsumu waved him off with a weak grin. “Just tired Omi. It was a great show.”

“Such a great show!” Shouyou parroted behind them.

“We’re the best!” Bokuto hooted.

Sakusa kept a wary eye on Atsumu all the way back to the hotel. Which, was several hours away as it was halfway to the next city on their tour. By the time they arrived, Atsumu’s face was flushed and he had a fever.

“”M fine,” he grumbled as they helped him with his bags. “I can carry ‘em myself.”

“You can barely carry yourself, Tsum-Tsum,” Bokuto teased, voice uncharacteristically quiet.

“I’ll go to the pharmacy and get some cold meds.”

“Take Bokuto with you,” Sakusa admonished. “We don’t need a repeat of Kyoto.” Shouyou’s face flamed to match Atsumu’s as Bokuto’s rumbling chuckle followed him up the sidewalk.

Atsumu whined the whole way up to his room, insisting he was not sick and just tired from the show. “We played hard tonight,” he said. “Honestly can’t believe you guys aren’t this tired.”

“We played the same as we always do,” Sakusa said. But they’d also played 10 shows in eight cities over twelve days. They had two more before they would get a few days in a row to rest. “We just take better care of ourselves.”

“‘M not sick,” he insisted.

“Of course not.” He helped Atsumu to the bathroom and ran the bath for him. “Don’t fall asleep in there. I’ll be back in a bit.” He ignored the way the singer’s pout set butterflies fluttering in his abdomen.

He met the others in the hall. Shouyou proudly handed over his spoils before bidding them goodnight. 

“You alright taking care of him?” Bokuto asked. For all his volume and wild personality, Sakusa sometimes forgot how perceptive the drummer could be of the emotions of the people around him. It was an out, if Sakusa wanted it, to avoid being put in a situation where he might get sick himself. The mask wasn’t just for aesthetics. Of course, Bokuto probably knew the deeper conflicts in his heart and it was also an out to avoid confronting them.

“It’s no problem,” he said, and meant it. “Get some rest so you don’t end up like him.”

Bokuto pointed his fingers at him and shot them rapidfire like guns. “You got it Omi-kun!”

After he had showered the grime of the show off himself and changed into the athleticwear he was most comfortable lounging in, he grabbed the bag from the pharmacy and returned to Atsumu’s room. He knocked twice, calling out to make sure the singer was decent, but frowned when he got no response. He let himself in with the spare keycard and sighed when he realized Atsumu had fallen asleep in the bath after all.

“Miya, what did I say?” His voice reverberated off the steamy tiles and Atsumu startled awake. 

“I wasn’t sleepin,” he said, his raspy voice completely giving him away. “Just closed my eyes for a sec is all.”

Sakusa sighed. “Out.” 

Atsumu narrowed his eyes at him, not liking the command in his tone, but he was getting pruney and he did need to get to bed. “I ain’t a kid, Omi. I don’t need you motherin’ me to get out of the bath.” His lips pulled to the side in a petulant pout.

Sakusa’s mask hid the twitch of his lips as he swallowed a smile that would have no doubt been unbearably fond. “If you can get out of there without falling over, I’ll leave you be.” 

He claimed he wasn’t a child, but Atsumu never backed down from a challenge. As if to prove his point, he braced himself against the edge of the tub and got to his feet, climbing out with all the grace of a newborn fawn unsteady on its legs. He didn’t fall, though, and planted his hands on his hips triumphantly, his skin gleaming with a freshly washed glow. He bared his teeth in a lopsided grin, waggling his stupid eyebrows as he leaned towards Sakusa. “Like what you see Omi-Omi?”

Sakusa rolled his eyes and tossed a towel to the other man before he could say anything else. “Like I haven’t seen it all before.” Atsumu must have been feeling slightly better after the bath because he was healthy enough to flush from head to toe. He scrambled to wrap the towel around himself, again a moot point, as Sakusa’s subtle reminder no doubt brought back memories of the onsen trip they’d all taken to celebrate the end of their last tour.

Maybe that was where it had started. They hadn’t spoken of it since the morning they woke up tangled together in Atsumu’s room, the previous night a sake-hazed dream of hot mouths and feverish hands roaming, exploring, grasping everything they could touch. It wasn’t a memory he was ashamed of, but Atsumu had insisted it was a one-time thing. “Dating in the band only ever leads to trouble,” he had muttered, and Sakusa didn’t have the heart to argue with him. Not when his face was so twisted in heartache.

“Come on,” he said, tilting his head toward the interior of the bedroom room. “Get dressed before you make your cold worse.”

Atsumu trailed after him with a huff. “I said it’s not a cold.” He promptly sneezed, then glared at Sakusa. “That don’t mean nothin.”

“Of course not.” He took the towel from Atsumu as the singer dressed in gym shorts and a long-sleeved tee branded with the golden claw of the MSBY logo. Sakusa made him sit on the bed as he ran the towel through his hair.

“What’d I do to deserve such special treatment?” he hummed.

“I’m just making sure our resident diva is ready for the show tomorrow. It’d be a pain if we had to cancel because he didn’t take care of himself at the start of a tour.”

Atsumu stuck his tongue out and made sure to turn enough that Sakusa would see it. “I’ll be fine.”

“Thanks to Shouyou for going to the pharmacy,” Sakusa said. “Speaking of.” He left the towel on Atsumu’s head and got up to retrieve the bag with the medicine. In addition to some decongestant that would also knock him out for the night, there was a vitamin C booster and a bottle of electrolytes. Sakusa leaned against the wall as he watched Atsumu take them, nodding with satisfaction once his patient had been treated.

“You don’t really think we’ll have to postpone tomorrow’s show, do ya?” Atsumu’s soft voice sounded more concerned about disappointing the fans than his potential illness. 

Which only made Sakusa’s chest tighten. “Not if you get some rest tonight. We can take rehearsal easy tomorrow if we have to.”

“Hmm.” Atsumu settled into the bed, pulling the blankets up to his chin. “I’d hate to take any time away from your brooding warmup,” he said with a yawn.

Sakusa snorted despite himself. “My what?”

“Yanno,” he said, waving a hand vaguely in the air. “You got that whole dark and brooding vibe when you get on stage. You take half of rehearsal getting your face just right.”

“You mean when I tune out your bullshit and focus on tuning my guitar instead?” He stifled another exasperated chuckle.

“If that’s what you wanna call it.” His eyes drifted close as the meds began to work into his bloodstream. His brows furrowed. “Hey,” he whined, as Sakusa’s words finally settled into place. “I never bullshit during warmup.” He cracked open a droopy eye to glare at Sakusa, the effect dampened by the fact that he was teetering on the edge of delirium.

Sakusa let himself smile behind his mask. “Never. You’re a paragon of professionalism at all times.”

Atsumu’s nose scrunched as he leered at Sakusa. “Yer makin fun of me.”

“Whatever gave you that impression?” He wasn’t trying to rile him up. He really did want Atsumu to get some rest for their show tomorrow. But he found he couldn’t help it when the other man was so uncharacteristically soft and vulnerable.

“Omi-kun is so mean to me,” he whined. “And here I thought you cared.” There was definitely a trace of loopiness in his voice.

“Of course I care,” he said. “How can I make it up to you?” Humoring him couldn’t hurt, Sakusa thought. 

Coffee-colored eyes scrutinized him, looking for an ulterior motive, or a button to press. His lips quirked up in a dopey grin that he probably thought was his typical charming smile. It may as well have been. With that smile on him, Sakusa knew that no matter what Atsumu asked for, he would give it to him. 

“Can you sing for me?”

His breath hitched in his throat. It wasn’t like he didn’t enjoy singing. He was a performer, after all. He sang for thousands on an almost daily basis, usually in support of the drowsy man in front of him. He rarely sang for one.

Atsumu was still staring at him, waiting for him to reject him, to walk away. His shoulders shrugged to his ears, a flush rising to his cheeks for the second time since his bath. “You don’t hafta. Just thought it’d be nice to hear your voice when I fall asleep.” No, there was definitely no way he could deny him after that. He was so ridiculously fond he briefly wondered if he had fallen ill, too.

“Okay.” Sakusa said. He had a song in mind. One he’d scribbled in the margins of his experimental sheet music, private pieces he’d worked and scrapped over the years, though this one had been a more recent endeavor.

“Okay?” Atsumu raised his head from the pillow, like he couldn’t quite believe his own ears.

Sakusa clicked his tongue against his teeth, a soft  _ tch _ , stepping forward to push the stubborn man back into the bed. “I will sing, if you will listen.” Atsumu nodded, eyes suddenly a bit clearer at the intensity in Sakusa’s gaze. 

He took a deep breath to focus, to get the melody in his head, and to calm his rapidly beating heart. This was probably foolish. It was unpolished, incomplete, but it was honest, and Atsumu probably wouldn’t remember it in the morning anyway. When he exhaled, he sang, low and slow and tender.

_ The day I first met you, you told me you'd never fall in love _ _   
_ _ But now that I get you, I know fear is what it really was _

So maybe it had been Sakusa who said it, in response to Atsumu’s preening and teasing-“Better not fall in love with me Kiyoomi-kun.”-but the implication was that the distaste was mutual. How ridiculous it all seemed in hindsight. In the low light of the room, Atsumu’s eyes were wide as he watched Sakusa, enraptured by the gentle rasp in his voice as he continued to sing his impromptu confession.

_ Now here we are, we’re so close yet we’re so far _ _   
_ _ Haven't I passed the test? _ _   
_ _ When will you realize, baby, I'm not like the rest _

He didn’t know what happened in the past, aside from the fact that Atsumu had been hurt before. He didn’t know how they got here either, despite all that, but they are and he can’t see the point in denying it any longer. He poured his heart into the refrain, hoping Atsumu heard his resolve in the words and understood he meant them.

_ Don't wanna break your heart, wanna give your heart a break _ _   
_ _ I know you're scared it's wrong like you might make a mistake _ _   
_ _ There's just one life to live and there's no time to wait, to waste _ _   
_ _ So let me give your heart a break _

He didn’t want Atsumu to think that night eight months ago had been a mistake. He didn’t want him to regret it, not when it was a memory Sakusa had grown increasingly fond of the more time they spent together, growing closer in spite of it. He didn’t want Atsumu to overthink it. He wanted Atsumu to allow himself the love he gave so freely to everyone else.

_ The world is ours _ _   
_ _ If we want it, we can take it _ _   
_ _ If you just take my hand _ _   
_ _ There's no turning back now _ _   
_ _ Baby, try to understand _

He sang through the refrain again, holding Atsumu’s gaze as he did so, hoping he heard all the things he wasn’t saying, too.  I’m not going to hurt you. Let me love you. Let me show you how loved you are. Let me give back some of the love you give to everyone around you.

The next verse wasn’t entirely complete, but that didn’t stop him from continuing. He would see this through now that he’d started it.

_ When your lips were on my lips and our hearts beat as one _ _   
_ _ But you slipped out of my fingertips _ _   
_ _ Every time you run _ __   
_ 'Cause you've been hurt before I can see it in your eyes _ _   
_ __ You try to smile away but some things you can't disguise

He ended with the refrain, reiterating his desire to heal Atsumu’s broken heart, to be the one to show him that it was ok to open up and let himself be loved. He watched Atsumu’s face as his words settled over him like a warm blanket, his cheeks flushing as realization set in. He covered his face with his hands and groaned.

“What the hell, Omi? Since when do ya write love songs?”

Sakusa considered it long enough for Atsumu to peer at him through his fingers. It was incredibly endearing. “Since I found someone to write about.”

Atsumu huffed, blowing his lips tiredly as the meds made him sluggish. “Never took ya for a romantic.” He was trying to be nonchalant but Sakusa had spent enough time memorizing the small details in Atsumu’s expressions to catch the way his eyes glinted with happiness.

“Don’t get used to it,” he quipped, though there was no heat in the jibe. That would have been kind of useless after he’d just revealed the deepest parts of his heart. A wide yawn cracked Atsumu’s jaw and Sakusa stood to leave. “Sleep. You’ll be better tomorrow.”

Atsumu hummed. “I feel loads better already.” He gave Sakusa a lopsided grin. “Thanks Omi.”

He was out before Sakusa could reply.

Sakusa didn’t mind. He had a feeling Atsumu would wake up healthy and tomorrow’s show would be their best yet.

(He would be right.)

**Author's Note:**

> Ha! The title was a lie! He totally wrote a love song!
> 
> Anyway.
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed this silly, fluffy, musical tale! Let me know what you think. Hit that kudos! Drop that comment! Come yell at me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/AniNinjaSpaz)! 
> 
> And don't forget to check back on Monday (2.22.21) for my Haikyuu Big Bang piece! See you soon!


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